


So That He Could Live

by bluerocketaconitum



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Death in the Family (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alfred is a badass, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Dick is a good big brother, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Movie: Batman: Death in the Family (2020), Whump, alternate ending tag, bruce dies, joker dies, tag for the ending where Bruce dies saving Jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28064250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerocketaconitum/pseuds/bluerocketaconitum
Summary: Jason did call for help, but it was too late for Bruce.Tag for Batman: Death in the Family. What happened after Bruce died saving Jason.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is a deathfic of sorts. it is based on the scene choice in Death in the Family where Bruce dies saving Jason from the warehouse explosion. But also, Joker bites it in the end too, because I like those endings the best. Just be aware.

_“Promise you'll be strong.”_

Bruce coughed at the end of the words, and then didn't take another breath. It was that fast.

“I...” 

Jason couldn't breathe, and it had nothing to do with the possible collapsed lung.

“Bruce... please. No...”

But he was gone. A moment ago, Jason had been sure he was going to die, and now... now Bruce was dead. Bruce had carried his broken body from the warehouse to save him, and now he was gone. Forever. 

Jason sat completely still a midst the smoldering rubble for what felt like hours, forcing himself to breathe and blinking through tears of grief that didn't feel like they could completely take hold yet. It felt too new. Bruce's body wasn't even cold yet. It wasn't real yet.

Finally he lifted the communicator he had found in Bruce's utility belt, clutched in numb fingers and tuned it to the Batcave's frequency. 

“Can anyone... Can anyone hear me?” his voice sounded like someone else to his own ears, rough, and distant, scraped ragged along the edges like broken glass.

_“Batman?”_

Dick's voice. What was Dick doing in the Batcave? He usually avoided it at all costs. Jason had expected Alfred, or Barbara. Maybe Dick was visiting Alfred, knowing Bruce was gone?

Bruce was gone...

 _“Batman? Respond.”_ Dick growled impatiently, doing a credible impression of Batman's voice himself. It made more tears push at Jason's tired eyes. He gulped in two breaths, as much as he could fit inside compressed, aching lungs before trying to speak.

“Dick. It's Jason. B's... dead.” he finally forced out. “I'm sorry.... I... t-tried to – “ Jason sucked in a deep breath through heaving lungs. Lungs that weren't working properly and potentially had holes in them. It took him a moment to realize that Dick was speaking to him.

 _“Are you ok, Robin? Are you safe? Jay? Jason, c'mon buddy, talk to me.”_ Dick's voice sounded rough, but not harsh or angry anymore. Jason latched onto the concerned tones and lifted his eyes from the cooling corpse of his... of Bruce to try to focus on Dick's question.

“I'm... I'm hurt. Pretty bad. Joker, he... I don't know if I can walk. Not far, anyway.”

 _“Is the Joker still around?”_ Dick asked, sharply.

Jason closed his eyes through the pounding in his head, trying to remember those last few minutes. It felt like days ago, but it hadn't been long at all. Half an hour maybe?

“He left. Before the explosion. He could... I don't know if he'll be back.”

He heard Dick take a deep breath through his nose. _“Ok, listen, Jason. I'm coming to get you. As fast as I can. But I need you to try to get somewhere safe to hide in case the Joker comes back.”_ he paused, _“I wish I could call Superman, or Flash, but they're off planet. Can you hang on for a few hours?”_

Jason took stock of himself. His lung was rattling every time he took more than a shallow breath, but it hadn't gotten worse since the Joker had commented on it, even after Batman had practically landed on him to protect him from the blast. He couldn't tell if his legs were actually broken, but they were throbbing so badly he didn't think he'd be walking far, if at all. His left elbow was tender and swollen, and the collarbone of the same arm was sending shooting pains through his entire torso when he moved, which probably meant it was broken. Ribs, definitely a few of those broken and cracked. His head... his head was the worst. Joker had gotten two direct hits to his head with the crowbar and Jason's vision hadn't cleared up since. His ears were ringing too. He tried to remember if they had been ringing before the blast as a result of the crowbar hits, or if the ringing was from the close proximity of the explosion. In any case, it was astonishing that he was still conscious and oriented enough to talk to Dick. Everything was blurry and shaky and he was starting to feel really nauseous. A corner of his brain kept bringing up the subject of lasting brain damage, but he was studiously ignoring it. Everything hurt, so badly he didn't remember what it felt like to not hurt. And it didn't help that the man who had been his father and mentor for almost three years was lying dead next to him. Had died saving him. That pain was almost enough to disassociate him from the physical agony of his body. Almost.

_I love you, son._

_“Little Wing?”_ Dick asked gently, and Jason realized he had zoned out again, his brain trying to protect him from the horror of his current situation.

“I can... I can make it.” Jason swallowed, tasting blood that he wasn't sure was from his split lip or internal bleeding. Probably should have told Dick about it, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

_“I might not have coverage the whole way, but I'm going to try to stay on the line with you. Me, or Alfred, ok? I want you to get somewhere safe right now. Just a few hours, Jason. I need you to hang on, and be safe.”_

His current location in Bosnia from the Batcave was more than a few hours. It was almost a full day, even with the bat-plane's superior everything. But Jason couldn't bring himself to care. In his current state, there was nothing he could do aside from waiting for help.

“Yeah. ok.” he mumbled. The adrenaline was leaving his system. He was about to crash. About to...

 _“Master Jason?”_ the voice in his ear changed, giving Jason's damaged brain a small kick start. 

“Hey Alfred.”

_“My dear boy, it is such a relief to hear your voice. Master Dick and I will be with you as soon as possible, but for now, please tell me you can find a safe place to wait for us?”_

They were really stuck on that, it seemed. Jason's safety. Even though it was Jason's fault that Bruce was...

_“Master Jason? Can you hear me?”_

“Don't... wanna leave him, Alfie.” Jason whispered. It was getting hard to breathe again. Why was it getting hard to breathe?... heart pounding... there's a bomb... can't get out... Batman... Bruce is coming...Bruce isn't moving... Bruce is dead...

 _“Jason,”_ Alfred's voice on the other line became commanding. _“listen to me.”_ The voice Alfred used on Bruce when the man hadn't slept in days, or when Jason practiced gymnastics on the furniture and sneaked cookies when they were too hot. It brought Jason's wandering attention back to the com device and he forced himself to focus.

 _“Breathe.”_ Alfred said firmly. _“I know you are hurt, and I know you must feel terribly about Bruce, as do we all. But your safety is paramount. Look around and tell me if you can see any places to hide in the event that the Joker, or others, might return. You need a place to lie low until help comes. This is up to you, my boy.”_

Joker coming back... Jason's heart stuttered at that thought. He wouldn't survive another encounter with the Joker, and the memory of the last one was enough to kick his survival instincts back into working order.

“Um... yeah. I... there's places to hide. Just have to...” he groaned as he shifted from his knees to his feet, pushing himself to standing. He swayed, shallow breaths fluttering and rattling along his shattered rib cage. His head spun and his ears roared.

This wasn't going to work.

_“ – ason? Master Jason, can you hear me?”_

Jason brought his one working hand up to his head when sound came back to him, surprised to find himself still on his feet after the mother of all head rushes.

“'m going now, Alf. I'm just...”

Hurting. Worse than he had ever hurt before.

_“Being Robin gives me magic!”_

_“This is the best day of my life!”_

What a dumb kid.

One step. Then another. Tiny, baby steps. Shuffling, stumbling steps that sent sharp pains through his pelvis. Add that injury to the ever-growing list. 

There were chunks of the building that were still smoldering with dying fires, but Jason could see a few slabs of torn concrete laid up against each other that didn't look like they would collapse on his head if he slid underneath them. Probably. His ability to judge such things was somewhat impaired at the moment.

His feet were bare and as he got farther from the center of the blast, farther from Bruce's body, he was walking through snow. He'd have to find a hiding place that was sheltered or he'd just freeze to death before they came for him.

“s' cold...” he murmured. He expected Alfred to say something, but there was no reply.

He lifted his hand and realized he had dropped the communicator. Somewhere between leaving Bruce's body, stumbling into the snow to find a place to hide here in the open with the concrete shelter he was aiming for, the com device had slipped from his cold fingers and he hadn't even noticed. 

Jason looked behind him to see if he could see it, but his vision was still blurred and it was dark. Theoretically, he should be able to see its blinking light somewhere along the scuffed snow tracks he had left, but there was nothing aside from the still smoldering pieces of debris left by the explosion, and most of those had dimmed, leaving him in the dark and the cold, now without even Alfred's voice to keep him company.

He shivered, bringing his hands up to his chest and making himself small to try to conserve his body heat. The broken cuffs were still digging into his wrists. He couldn't remember when they had been broken. After Batman had burst through the door? There hadn't been time, he was sure. During the explosion? Maybe he had been thrown hard enough to break them? It wasn't important, but his aching brain latched onto it for some reason.

He took another step forward, tripped, and collapsed onto his knees, crying out sharply as everything was jolted into white-hot pain.

_“I want that for you, because I love you, son.”_

Bruce wanted him to live. Bruce had been sure when he's taken his last breath that Jason _would_ live.

Jason wasn't sure if he wanted to. What would his life look like without Bruce in it?

What would his life look like with Joker still running around because Bruce didn't want Jason to kill him for what he had done? 

Thoughts pinged around in his brain like the pinball machine at the arcade Dick had taken him to a few times, and surprisingly, the anger and confusion surrounding some of Bruce's last words to him were enough to push Jason back to his feet and propel him forward again. 

Bruce knew him well. Because he had known to ask Jason not to kill the Joker. He must have somehow known that that was all Jason wanted right now. 

Well, if he could have had Bruce back he might have wanted it a little bit less.

There were two slabs of concrete leaned against each other, sunken into the earth where they had been planted by the explosion. The area beneath them was sheltered from prying eyes and drifting snowflakes and mostly cleared of snow because of nearby smoldering wood. There was even a piece of burning lumber close enough to the slab to provide some warmth for Jason as he laid down against it, pulling his cape around his shoulders. At least maybe his feet could be saved from frostbite.

There was no way to lay that didn't put pressure on broken bones and aching muscles, but the warmth from the fire and shelter from the wind was such a relief in itself that Jason had no sooner settled his aching back against the slab before his conscious thoughts were slipping away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was hurt - here's the comfort.

This was one of Dick Grayson's nightmares. Brought to life right in front of him in spectacular color and sound, with no option of waking up.

Bruce was dead. The man who had raised him, trained him, and loved him for over ten years was gone, body stiff and cold along with the smoldering hunks of the exploded warehouse behind them. And Jason, the kid who had inherited his Robin mantle and all of the dangers that went with it – dangers Dick had yelled at Bruce about in the beginning of Jason's career – was hiding somewhere, possibly dead as well.

Dick wanted it to just be a nightmare, but it wasn't. It was real, and as much as he wanted to give into the tears pressing against his eyelids as he knelt next to Bruce's body, he needed to find Jason.

“Aw, Bruce. I wish I could've...” His hand trailed over his mentor's cold cheek as regrets swam up in Dick's soul, trying to drown him. “damn it.”

Alfred's hand was on his shoulder, shaking with grief, but somehow still giving him the rock solid support that everyone in the family relied on. 

“Find master Jason. I'll take care of Bruce.” Alfred said quietly.

Dick sniffed and stood up with a heavy nod. The kid had gone silent before Dick had even been able to grab his things and get himself and Alfred out the door. A quick call to Barbara had her taking over communications. They hadn't lost Jason's signal. He had just gone quiet and stopped moving.

It hadn't been hard to find Bruce's body. Not far from the center of the blast radius, covered in dried blood and a dusting of snowflakes. Cold. Gone.

It had snowed just a bit in the hours it had taken them to get to the blast site, but Jason's footprints, along with a patchy blood trail could still faintly be seen, leading away from the body. Barefoot. God, the kid was barefoot. Dick could feel the chill, even in his insulated seasonal Nightwing suit. He kept hearing Jason's disoriented, broken voice from hours before on loop in his head until he was sure all he was going to find was another family member's body.

“Robin!” He called, not caring if anyone heard him. If Joker came back here, Dick was ending him with his bare hands. No-kill rule be damned. 

“Robin!” there was a patch of bare ground and Dick lost the trail at the same moment he found the dropped communicator. He picked it up, making himself breathe deeply through the panic that was crawling up his throat. “C'mon Jay, where are you?” 

Dick alternated using his light to try to find Jason's trail again and flashing it toward potential hiding places in the area that the boy might have chosen. He couldn't think about the possibility that Joker had come back and taken Jason...

No. Jason was the most determined kid Dick knew. He was a survivor. 

He was Robin.

A little way ahead, he saw it. It was exactly where he would have chosen to hide if their positions had been reversed and he was sure that was where he would find Jason.

“Jason?” Dick ran toward the makeshift shelter and sank to his knees in relief next to the small form huddled against the stone, bruised, bare feet turned toward a blackened piece of lumber that had probably provided some warmth for a few hours before the fire had died.

Removing his gloves, Dick felt for a pulse, his heart stuttering at the severity of Jason's injuries. He had sounded bad over the com, but in typical Jason fashion, he hadn't actually given Dick any details on just how badly he was hurt. 

Jason looked... broken. There wasn't an un-bruised patch of skin anywhere and blood was caked in various places all over the bright Robin uniform and dried in trails down Jason's face. One of Jason's eyes was swollen mostly shut, his nose was broken, and his soft breaths were rattling alarmingly through his teeth. And that was just what Dick could see at first glance.

“Jay? C'mon kiddo. Open your eyes.” 

It felt almost cruel, asking him to wake up to a body so broken up, but even though Dick could feel his pulse and hear his breath, he wanted to look into Jason's eyes and show him he was safe.

Jason's breathing stuttered and Dick tightened his hand carefully on Jason's forearm to anchor him.

“It's me, Jason. It's Dick. You're safe. You're ok, bud. Can you look at me?”

Jason's eyes fluttered open and wandered before finding Dick's face. Dick reached up and removed his mask, giving Jason a sad smile. “You with me, Little Wing?”

“Dick?”

“Yeah, kiddo. I'm right here. You're in really rough shape. We're gonna get you home, ok?”

Jason blinked for a moment and then his breathing sped up. “Batman. Bruce... Bruce is – “

“I know, Jay. Alfred is taking care of it. I'm sorry you had to be here on your own so long. Shh... it's ok. I know.”

Jason didn't realize he was crying until Dick reached for his cheek and wiped away tears. Carefully, like he was handling a newborn baby instead of a fifteen year old boy, Dick gathered Jason into his arms. Jason melted, all of his fragile pieces trying to shake apart in Dick's arms.

“My fault...”

“No. It wasn't your fault. Don't talk like that.”

Jason lost the motion, but somehow Dick had arranged him so that he could carry him and was now standing up. Jason's body was still screaming with pain, but the relief of not having to walk anymore, to hide anymore, to try to stay warm anymore, was enough to bring more tears to Jason's eyes and he turned his head into Dick's shoulder.

He thought offhandedly that maybe being beaten within an inch of his life with a crowbar and losing his father figure all in one night was a decent excuse for crying like a baby in his big brother's arms. He thought Dick was probably too nice to call him on it in any case. 

Dick moved fluidly out from under the concrete slab that had been Jason's hiding place for the past few hours, and – 

Right into the Joker's crowbar.

Jason saw the dark figure over Dick's shoulder in a split second of time as the weapon swung down.

“Look out!” He screamed.

Dick ducked his head and moved forward just enough that the blow hit him across the back of the neck and shoulders instead of his head, but the force of it still knocked him onto his knees, dropping Jason, leaving them both stunned and gasping.

Joker swung the crowbar again and this time hit Dick across the spine, knocking him all the way down. 

“Batsy wasn't supposed to die. It was supposed to be the meddling kid.” he growled through his frozen smile. “I've tried to teach both of you birds a lesson, but it just never. Seems. To. Stick. Now everything is ruined!”

Another blow landed to Dick's ribs with a sickening crack Jason could hear even with the ringing in his ears.

Dick managed to roll onto his back, blinking dazedly. “Robin, run...”

Joker narrowed his eyes and grinned at Nightwing. “He can't run anywhere, I shattered his tibia earlier... He's going to sit here like a good birdie and watch while I turn your head into mashed potatoes. I've always wanted to, you know. Ever since you started hogging all of Batman's attention. But then you moved away and put on big boy pants. Ungrateful twerp. After all the fun times we had. Aw well. Better late than never.”

“No!” Jason screamed, struggling to get between Dick and the Joker. He only made it to his knees to crawl, but at least Dick was behind him.

This monster had killed Bruce. Jason would be damned before he let him kill Dick too.

With a cackle, Joker raised the bloodstained crowbar over Jason. “Didn't get enough earlier, kiddo?”

Jason couldn't move. He was frozen, his mind whited out with pain and terror.

A gunshot rang out in the echo of the Joker's laughter and suddenly the Clown Prince of Crime was nothing more than a bloody stain in the snow, the crowbar still clutched in his limp hand.

Jason's chest was heaving, but it didn't feel like any air was getting through. Hands touched his shoulders from behind, but they were careful. Then Dick was kneeling in front of him, wide-eyed, talking to him, shaking fingers trailing over his cheeks, but Jason's ears were ringing again and he couldn't hear what Dick was saying. His vision was darkening around the edges.

Then Alfred was there, a grim look on his face and a gun in his hand. It was the last thing Jason saw before he collapsed into Dick's arms.  
–

The snow had begun falling in earnest now, drifting heavy flakes over the dark, sleek form of the bat- plane as they approached, Jason wrapped in his own cape, unconscious, held tightly in Dick's arms, with Alfred walking steadily in front of them, watching the shadows. 

Dick was doubly glad for the older man's presence when one of the shadows moved.

Alfred brought his gun up to bear on Ra's al Ghul as the assassin stepped from behind the plane. Snowflakes swirled around him, but never seemed to cling to his clothing or hair. 

"If the boy is too damaged, I can help. He wasn't supposed to be hurt, at least, not so severely. I underestimated the Joker's hatred of Batman's proteges."

Dick's lips drew back in a snarl, "I don't want any help from you. You've done enough, and if I ever see you again, I'll kill you."

Alfred didn't say anything, but his arm never wavered as it held the gun trained on Ra's.

Ra's regarded them coolly for a moment, then gave a slow nod. "Very well. My condolences for your mentor. He was a great man. A worthy opponent."

Ra's turned and disappeared into the swirling snowflakes and Dick shivered, releasing the breath he had been holding. Ra's gave him the creeps. Always had. Him showing up here was just the icing on a very terrible cake.

There had been a small part of him that had wanted to take Ra's up on his offer though. Seeing the sheer devastation of Jason's injuries and knowing how long it was going to take the kid to recover - if a full recovery was even in the cards for him. Dick had never been one to settle for an easy way out, but for Jason... he had considered it for just a second. 

The Joker had only hit him three times and Dick was craving a hit from their strongest painkillers. He could only imagine how much Jason was hurting. 

He hugged Jason tighter to his chest and let Alfred steer them toward the bat-plane. 

He would be with Jason every step of the way. Barbara and Alfred and himself. They would help Jason recover, whatever that meant, and Dick would find a way to hold their tiny mismatched family together somehow. 

They would heal. Honoring the legacy Bruce had built. 

Protecting Gotham. Helping others.

Batman was dead, but his light would keep shining through Gotham's darkest streets for years to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> It is painfully obvious to me that I haven't written anything in years (way back in ancient times I posted a few things on fanfiction.net under a different name). But after watching Death in the Family, I really wanted Dick and Alfred to come rescue Jason, so I dusted off my old fanfic writer hat. There was a lot of dust on it... and moth holes... 
> 
> Comments of the nice-ish variety are very much appreciated.


End file.
